Caged Byrd

Chapter Two - When I Woke

My stomach was rolling with nausea. I tried to roll to my side, but found I could not do so. My head was spinning and throbbing with a painful headache. Flashes of memories came to me that I couldn't make sense of. My chin being tilted up by hand and a bottle pressed to my lips. Warm, rough fingers laced through my own. A low rumbling voice speaking to me. A moving car. Blue eyes.

These memories came to me in slowly as my mind became clear. Something wasn't right. As I became more aware, I could feel the bindings around my wrists and ankles. The makeshift blindfold that had been placed over my eyes was knotted behind my head and was uncomfortable to lay my head back on. The bed was too soft, and the air felt... wrong.

The memory of the car came to me again. A heavy pit settled in my stomach. I was almost certain that I was no longer in my room. And if I wasn't in my room, then where was I? My throat and chest felt tight. I could feel the panic rising in me, so I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.

Although I was blindfolded and my wrists and ankles were bound, I was well aware of the fact that I was not gagged and it terrified me. I could scream, but if I had not been gagged, it most likely meant no one would be able to hear me. If I screamed, whoever had tied me up would know I was awake.

Aside from the killer headache and nausea, I wasn't in any pain. It terrified me to think that the person who had taken me from my home wanted me awake for whatever they planned to do.

My mind, as usual, went into overdrive, presenting every single possible torture that could be inflicted on me. I became dizzy with fear. My hands shook as I pulled at my restraints. I felt along the silky material, my fingers searching for knots that could be undone. My ankles were bound so that I couldn't reach the headboard. Whenever I pulled, my bindings tightened until I was forced to stop from the pain.

A door opened. I immediately let myself fall limp, letting my head roll to the side, away from the sound of the door so that I was not facing it. It took everything I had to take slow, measured breaths and feign sleep.

"I know you're awake," he said. I winced. His voice was so loud in the quiet room and my head was still throbbing. Despite his words and my reaction to them, I didn't move, hoping I could still pull off the act. He sighed. The bed sank with his weight and he sat beside me. I held my breath.

Warm, rough fingers stroked my bare forearm. "I didn't mean to bruise you. I'm sorry," he said, regret in his voice. My fingers flexed automatically as I tried to feel the bruises he spoke about. As I did so, a memory of a man on top of me and his knees pinning my arms down came to me. "Do you want me to remove the blindfold?" he asked, his weight shifting. A hand lifted my head off the pillow.

"No!" I gasped, pulling back. Well, I guess I was officially awake now. It was silent for a moment, but he didn't pull back right away. When he did, his fingertips skimmed over my throat and shoulder.

"Why don't you want the blindfold removed?" the man asked. There was humor in his voice now, as if I amused him. I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, but couldn't.

"Because once I see your face, you can't let me go," I said. His fingers left my shoulder, where they had been resting. Goosebumps rose where they had been.

"And what makes you think I'm not planning to keep you?" he asked. He was playing with me, or at least that's what it felt like. My mind raced at his question. It made dark thoughts and theories rise. Was he going to kill me after he tortured me?

"Then why bother with the blindfold?" I asked.

"Because I wanted my face to be the first thing you saw after you woke," he said, leaning forward once again. Before I could pull away, he pushed the blindfold up and over my head, sliding it off. I had managed to squeeze my eyes shut before I saw anything, but somehow, I now felt exposed. I flinched back as his hand stroked my cheek.